Every Day Inspirations February
by madpsychogirl
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the relationships between our favourite characters.
1. Feb 1

_**Feb 1**_

"**Information is the currency of democracy." - _Thomas Jefferson._**

Jenny Shepard inhaled the smell of coffee drifting around MTAC.

Thanks to the man sitting next to her, she now craved the drink settled in his lap. She wanted to feel the warmth of the liquid as it soothed her throat, while the sharp taste of the coffee itself would sharpen her focus. Later in her office, the smell would linger in her pores, reminding her just who would be waiting for her when she went home.

"Aren't you supposed to be running this operation, Director?" He whispered, a condescending edge to his tone she didn't hear very often.

"Bad day, Jethro?" She mocked him, not in the mood to play his games today.

"You weren't concentrating."

"You shouldn't even be here. This is classified." She reminded him, watching as he brought the cup to his lips. She resisted the sudden urge to lick her own on reflex. Or his for that matter.

"You're not starting another argument are you?"

"Considering it's been two weeks since our last one, this is an improvement."

Jethro chuckled softly, turning away from her gaze. They both knew how their last fight had ended... Considering the fact that Cynthia hadn't spoken to him since that day, there was no doubt she did too.

"I'll leave you to it, Director." He stood up, placing the cup into her hands, brushing his fingers along the back of her hand as he left. Smiling to herself, Jenny settled herself down for a long afternoon.


	2. Feb 2

_A/N: Considering I'm in the lab today, this one is highly appropriate :P *giggles*

* * *

__**Feb 2**_

"**I am still waiting for something really wonderful to happen." - _Woman celebrating her 100__th__ birthday._**

"Aren't you just a little bit worried, boss?" Tony asked as the team rode the elevator down to the garage.

"Abby calls us down to see her all the time." McGee reminded him.

"Not to the garage though. That usually warrants a demonstration. And considering the nature of Officer Morrison's death, I'm a little worried. Aren't you worried?"

A headslap silenced him.

The doors opened seconds later to an empty garage. Empty that is, except for the mattress and the Goth sitting on it.

"Where have you guys been? I've been waiting for _ages_. I can't believe I figured this out. Well, I _can_ because if I hadn't, I wouldn't be me, but seriously, this was a weird one."

"Abby."

"Right, sorry. I need two volunteers."

Tony pushed McGee forward, but it wasn't necessary. Abby grabbed them both by the cuff of their shirts, pulling them over to the mattress. "Oh no, Abby, you are not using me to-"

"Relax DiNozzo." Gibbs smiled, working out exactly what the scientist had planned. "It won't kill you."

"Abby, you can't be serious."

"I always thought that you and Tim made a cute couple." She teased, showing them where they needed to be. "And anyway, you're both the closest to the weight of Officers Morrison and West."

Ziva snuck her cell phone from her pocket, snapping a picture as Tony did as he had been ordered from Abby; to straddle McGee.

"This is by far the most humiliating moment of my life."

"Even more than kissing a transvestite?"

"McGee, I still have a gun holstered to my belt. I will use it."

"You can't, it'll set off the explosives in the mattress!" Abby screeched. McGee went white. "I'm still waiting for something to happen!"

"I don't get paid enough for this." Tony mumbled, shaking his head and gritting his teeth in anticipation for the imminent propelling he knew would send him across the room in a minute or so.

Whoever said science was fun had lied.


	3. Feb 3

_**Feb 3**_

"**Apologising for your mistakes is a sign of maturity and strength. Learning from your mistakes is a sign of true wisdom." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Timothy McGee had made a lot of mistakes since joining Gibbs' team at NCIS.

Many of them he'd rather Tony didn't mention on a regular basis, while others had moulded him into the agent he'd proudly matured into.

First and foremost, Abby Scuito could never be counted as a mistake; losing her could. Their relationship would be something he'd always cherish, as he knew she did too.

McGee realised shortly after Kate died that he didn't tell her enough how much she meant to him. She made him laugh and always had his back. When Ziva came along, he made sure to compliment her as often as possible without earning a snide comment from Tony, even buying her breakfast every so often.

Shooting to kill still scared McGee enough to give him goosebumps. Ever since he'd killed that cop, the idea of taking a life terrified him. The difference now being that he now saw it as the way to keep his best friends and himself alive.

He put his job on the line for his sister Sarah, something he would do again without hesitation. She was his family and he loved her.

Lately, McGee felt as though his friends were fast becoming his family too. Tony, his big brother, constantly teasing him about his name or his upcoming novel, or his clothes or... Pretty much anything really. Ziva, his sister; although considering the flirtations and story ideas McGee had thought up recently, he pushed that incestuous idea quickly aside.

Gibbs. The only mistake McGee ever truly worried about making would be to fail the man that had literally changed his life. It wouldn't be the anger or frustration, but disappointment that would cripple him.

Then again, McGee knew one thing for certain. Despite everything that had happened in the last few years, he felt proud to admit he'd learnt from his mistakes and grown from them. He owed Gibbs that much.


	4. Feb 4

_**Feb 4**_

"**Hate usually does more damage to the person doing the hating than to the object of their hatred." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Tony DiNozzo loved fast food.

Pizza, chinese, burgers, tacos, sandwiches.

Considering the hours he'd been working recently, it meant that cooking for himself rarely happened any more. Which explained why, one Thursday evening, dinner came from the vending machine down the hall.

Cheetos or Lays? A Hershey bar or Oreos?

It jammed.

"Damn it!" He yelled, thumping the glass in frustration. Nothing happened. Except, his temper hit the roof.

Why couldn't they catch a break? Why couldn't the bad guys be the ones to die, just like in the movies? Why couldn't a guy get a snack from a machine?

Hitting the machine once more for good measure, Tony felt a little better. He understood why Ziva chose a punchbag during or after a tough case. Could he get away with one more punch? He knew Ziva must have done worse...

This time though, Tony felt different as he pummelled the glass once more.

Something cracked.

Resisting the urge to screech, he bit his lip, drawing blood. Ziva appeared at that moment, taking in the man in front of her, cradling his hand close to his chest. "Tony?"

"I _hate_ vending machines." He growled. "All I wanted was a damn candy bar. I think I broke my finger."

Ziva took his hand in hers, inspecting it with a look he could only describe as that of an expert**. **"I will strap it up for you." She smiled, leaning over him to slam her fist into the machine. A bar fell from the top, earning a low groan from Tony.

"Son of a-"

"Dinner." She tucked it into his jacket, letting her fingers linger over his chest.

"If anyone asks, I did this punching some dirtbag, okay?"

"Okay." She smiled again, heading off to ask Ducky for tape.

Maybe she'd tell McGee the truth when she got back. And Abby. And...


	5. Feb 5

_**Feb 5**_

"**If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." - _Katharine Hepburn._**

Jenny Shepard, as Director of NCIS, always followed the rules.

As much as Jethro would remind her of the 'good old days' when the only rules she followed were his (and even then, that was often debatable), she knew they were there for a reason.

Sometimes though, like today, Jenny went back to being a rookie. A rebel.

"You skipped your protection detail." A voice made her flinch slightly, despite the cheer from the crowd. Instead of the husky voice she'd expected, the person sitting next to her smiled as they spoke; making an observation more than an accusation.

"Ziva." Jenny returned the smile, glad to see a friendly face. "I needed a break."

"This is not the sort of break I would expect you to have, Director." Ziva couldn't tear her eyes away from the men in front of her. Men, _everywhere._

"Lots of people in a crowd and no-one focussing on me. It's perfect."

"It smells like-" The assassin wrinkled her nose, not quite sure how to finish.

"How did you find me?" Jenny laughed as the other woman raised her eyebrow. "Right, it's your job. Did Gibbs send you?"

Ziva shook her head. "I have always wanted to see the Washington Wizards after Tony complained about them non-stop when they lost recently and he bet against them."

"Did you know that number 34 is called McGee?" Jenny asked, nodding in the direction of the court. "Center forward."

"You come here more often than you let on." Ziva mused, watching the game with deep interest as the Director shrugged nonchalantly.

"Sometimes I miss all the fun."


	6. Feb 6

_A/N: Technically, it's still Saturday for me... I have 20 mins left to post :P_

* * *

_**Feb 6**_

"**You must come again when you have less time." - _Walter Sickert._**

Jethro Gibbs rarely learnt something new about Jenny Shepard.

Considering the time they'd known each other, personally as well as professionally, he could go as far as saying he knew her better than she knew herself.

But one cold Saturday morning, curled up together under his warm duvet, Jenny did the one thing to surprise him enough to take the breath from his lungs.

She giggled.

The Director of NCIS, stand-in 'mother' of the team and most feared, respected and diplomatic leader of the Federal agencies, _giggled_ into Jethro's bare chest like a bashful teenager.

"Jethro, that _tickles_."

"I can tell." He couldn't help but chuckle; the sounds she made from his touch the main reason for his persistent good moods lately.

"_Jethro."_

"I can stop?" Jenny kissed him then, slow but passionate as if she wanted to take her time to taste him. She moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating throughout his entire body. "It's a good job you don't do _that_ at work very often." He teased, pushing his hips closer to hers, if it were even possible.

"And when I do you're the only one to blame." She argued, biting her bottom lip to stop herself doing it again. "If I remember rightly, you were very vocal yourself last week."

Jethro grinned, remembering their long afternoon locked in her office. He'd never have done it if she hadn't been so damn convincing.

As if reading his mind, Jenny got her own back, massaging her way down his chest until she reached the waistband of his boxers.

"My turn."


	7. Feb 7

_A/N: I have a selection of tasty cookies to whoever can guess correctly why I used the name at the end :P *grins*_

_**

* * *

Feb 7**_

"**The first half of our life is ruined by our parents and the second half by our children." - _Clarence Darrow._**

Sunday morning. 0600. Clear blue skies, no hint of clouds and a crisp, chilly wind.

"_Boss!"_

All that, and a whiny agent on your tail. Perfection.

"DiNozzo, I will shoot you."

You can hear his teeth chattering. He's breathing deeply, trying desperately to inhale as much of the fumes from your coffee as possible – craving a fix. You chuckle at the image you've created. DiNozzo the Junkie. Definitely not. He'd be too proud to sell his Armani suits.

You seriously worry about him sometimes. You feel as though you've taken on the role of his father – something you can't help but feel a warmth over. Ducky tried telling you it's the same for all your team once, but you left the room without a backward glance. He can't jinx it, just in case you lose your family again. It's happened once, the second time would definitely kill you. They're the only thing that keeps you sane sometimes.

"Boss, _seriously."_ And drive you mad, of course.

"I offered you coffee, DiNozzo."

"I didn't realise we were coming out _hiking._ You said we were following up on a lead."

"We are."

"We're in the middle of nowhere! Or are you homing in on your Marine Spider senses?" A dog barking cut through the air, getting closer by the sounds of it. "You said you had a gun, right?"

"Relax." You practically order him, feeling more at ease than you'd have thought. He falls silent, eyes nervously scanning the animal he knows is extremely close.

"Did you bring me out here to kill me, boss? I know I'm annoying sometimes but I promise I'll be-"

A mass of fur leaps onto Tony's chest, knocking him onto his back. The young man yelps as the dog licks his face, paws firmly set on his torso.

"Tony, meet Icarus. Abby's birthday present."


	8. Feb 8

_A/N: In response to the 'Icarus' debate, I used the name of Jensen Ackles and Danneel Harris' dog :) Search youtube if you want to see the video where he talks about him at a recent convention. *squees* (Yes I'm sad for naming him that. Couldn't resist.) Also, Abby's Icarus is a big__ dog – possibly a German Shephard or maybe a Lab or Dalmation. Not quite sure yet. Cookies go to MissJayne though, but then again, I showed her the video so maybe that's cheating... Anyway, I'm rambling! My author's note is going to be longer than the drabble! *hugs*  


* * *

_

_**Feb 8**_

"**I am convinced digestion is the great secret of life." - _Sidney Smith._**

Anthony DiNozzo really loved food; except for when the food fought back.

The broken finger from his incident a few days before was neatly strapped, something that Gibbs seemed to have forgotten when inviting him out the morning before.

Riding down in the elevator as he ate his breakfast – pepperoni, sausage and extra cheese pizza – leftovers from the night before. The taste of good food made him thankful to be human.

Going to see Ducky for the results from the dead Officer seemed like a good idea until he saw the body on the table, bloody and exposed. The pizza churned dangerously in his stomach. This was not good.

"Ah Tony, you're a little early. I've only just got to the digestive system."

"I can see that, Duck." He replied sarcastically, eyeing the pizza in his hand.

"You're brave." Palmer joked, lifting the stomach from the cavity.

"It didn't seem like such a bad idea at the time." Tony mumbled. "I missed dinner last night."

"It seems as though our Officer shared your taste in food." Ducky mused, having cut along the line of the organ. "Pepperoni, sausage and-"

"I think I'm going to be sick." Tony backed up against the wall as the doctor emptied the contents into a jar.

"Such a fascinating arrangement of organs, the digestive system. I remember studying for my-"

"I don't want to be rude but the smell of flesh mixed with pizza is something I'd rather not remember."

Palmer chuckled as he held over the jar he'd taken from Ducky to label it properly. "Don't eat the wrong one."

The colour drained from Tony's face as he left the room, back to the safety of the squad room where he could eat his food in peace.


	9. Feb 9

_**Feb 9**_

"**Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed." - _Alexander Pope._**

Ziva David had discovered a completely new set of traditions since moving to America.

Some she felt obliged to participate; others were a nuisance that she felt no need to indulge in. Thanksgiving and Christmas were evenings she would cherish, with Halloween one she'd rather spend on the Navy Yard.

January seemed to have flown by, the first week of February following it.

Getting ready to work on a Tuesday morning, Ziva took her time. Their dead Officer wouldn't be going anywhere and she generally made it in before Tony or McGee anyway. She'd finished her morning run in record time, giving herself long enough to shower and dress at her leisure – a rarity nowadays.

A soft knock at her apartment door made her frown as she finished brushing her hair. Who would be calling at this time of the morning?

Cautiously opening the door, hand on the holster of her belt, she felt her entire body tense.

"_Boker Tov_." Tony greeted her, looking a little embarrassed.

"Shalom." Ziva replied, quickly relaxing. "What are you doing here?" She finally noticed the reason for his demeanour. The red rose in his right hand, wrapped present in the other.

"Happy Valentine's Day." He took a step forward, kissing her cheek.

"I thought that was Sunday?" She frowned, blushing a little.

"It is. I thought I'd surprise you early."

The rose smelt beautiful. Fresh. _Alive._

"_Toda._" She whispered, slipping back into her native tongue.

"_Prego." _He grinned, reminding her of the evening they shared pizza and coffee in the rain. "You can open the present now or Sunday, I don't mind."

"I have never received a gift for an occasion like this before." She confessed, reaching out to touch him.

"I know." He smiled, closing the distance between them.

"Would you like to come in for a coffee before work?"

Leaning down to kiss her properly this time, Tony gently pushed her back into her apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot.


	10. Feb 10

_**Feb 10**_

"**History is not what happened, it is what you can remember." - _W.C Sellar and R.J. Yateman._**

"Best kiss _ever?_"

"Last week."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Prove it."

She smiled broadly, happy to indulge in his request. "You looked at me like you wanted to say something but you changed your mind. Instead, you kissed me. It didn't matter that it was raining and that we were soaked through and shivering. You wrapped your coat around me and told me you loved me. It was perfect." She brushed her lips over his to emphasise her point. "When was yours?"

"Our first kiss."

She laughed, blushing. "You can't be serious."

He nodded solemnly, fighting to keep a straight face. "You were half-asleep and easily the most pissed off I've ever seen you. You were wearing my shirt and your hair fell down past your shoulders." He smiled at the memory. "You tasted of jam and I couldn't quite understand why because I couldn't think of anything else except kissing you."

"It was the only thing in the cupboard." She scoffed, shaking her head. "I knew I should have brushed my teeth straight after I'd eaten."

He kissed her neck, letting his tongue trail along her collarbone.

"The closest we've ever got to getting caught?" She asked, closing her eyes as his fingers kneaded the muscles at the base of her neck.

"That one time in the elevator a few years ago." He smiled into her skin, remembering the rush as they'd desperately tried to rearrange their clothes.

"That one was your fault."

"You kissed me."

"You told me you couldn't live without me." She argued, running her hands through his hair. He nodded, silently agreeing.

"Regret anything?"

She bit her lip, contemplating an answer. "Leaving you."

"You're here now." He pulled her closer, kissing her hair.

"Yes I am." She smiled, knowing there was nowhere else she'd rather be.


	11. Feb 11

_A/N: I just have to say that I really enjoyed writing this one and I just love McGee recently. I always did, but there's just something about him this season. *melts*_

* * *

_**Feb 11**_

"**In youth we tend to look forward; in old age we tend to look back; in middle age we tend to look worried." - _Anon._**

"What the hell was _that?"_ Tony DiNozzo yelled, his back slamming into floor as McGee pinned him down.

"It's called a takedown, Tony. You should try it sometime."

Gibbs chuckled from his place on the bench, watching his two agents fight in the middle of the floor. "You taught him that, didn't you?" He whispered, turning to the agent on his left, smiling at her.

"_Krav Maga."_ She explained, smiling too. "McGee learns fast. I thought it would give him an edge to learn a self-defence method that is not familiar to others."

Gibbs nodded, his gaze pulled back to the men. "My edge used to be my aim." He confessed, remembering his days as a Marine. "Patience. Determination."

"Duty." Ziva finished, another burst of yelling from Tony enough to make her smirk.

"You're a good teacher." Gibbs complemented her, watching as McGee teased the older man.

"Come on Tony, you're supposed to be good at hand-to-hand combat."

"Probie, I will break into your apartment and burn every page from your new novel so that your editor hunts you down and-"

Another blow to the stomach knocked the wind from him, his body aching.

This really wasn't fair.

Groaning loudly, he tried ignoring the nagging feeling that he deserved this for the years of torture he'd put McGee through. Then again, that's what Probie's had to put up with. He was Senior Field Agent, damnit.

McGee had turned to talk to Ziva, his back to the other man. Tony knew what he had to do, but it would be a cheap shot considering the younger agent had fought so well...

Deciding his pride was worth more than that, Tony swung both legs around, taking out McGee's ankles. Landing hard on his left side, he barely had time to recover when a gun appeared in front of him. On reflex, he flinched.

"Gotcha, Probie-Wan."

"Cheat." He winced, rubbing his hip.

"You should always watch your six."

"So should you, DiNozzo." Gibbs appeared, a head slap distracting him long enough for McGee to copy his actions, taking out his feet from under him.


	12. Feb 12

_**Feb 12**_

"**However good your life is it will be better if you smile and say 'thank you' more often." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Abby Scuito loved presents.

Regular Caf-Pows made her day, along with visits from _el jefe._ To her, they were enough to keep her smiling.

That, and the new man in her life. Icarus.

He seemed to have the personality Abby would expect Bert to have if he were a living, breathing animal. He'd taken on the role of her protector. Not wanting to leave her side, he'd slept beside her coffin for the past four nights.

Today, she'd decided to bring him into work. A maternal 'meet and greet'... Abby smiled. She liked the sound of that.

Tony and Ziva had been down earlier, although Tony kept a safe distance which his partner found highly entertaining. McGee had seen enough of Icarus in the last few days considering the plan to introduce Jethro to Icarus had gone extremely well.

Although Abby didn't expect to see Jenny, the one person she wanted to thank yet again had yet to make an appearance. Gibbs would be arriving soon, she knew it...

Ruffling Icarus behind his ears, she smiled. He really was gorgeous.

The elevator dinged, announcing Gibbs' awaited arrival. The dog barked in a way that could only be described as friendly – he recognised the man.

"Icarus." He greeted the dog, kneeling down on his hunches to stroke him. "How you doing, boy?"

"I'm doing very well thank you, Dad..." Abby's voice was deep and gruff as she replied. "I love my new home."

Gibbs stood up, smiling. "Good." He kissed her cheek, a Caf-Pow materialising from nowhere.

"Thank you." She beamed, pulling him into a hug. "For everything."

"You're very welcome." He kissed her again, chuckling softly as he turned to leave. "Look after her Icarus."

"Yes _sir."_ Abby's reply made him laugh harder as he left the two of them alone.


	13. Feb 13

_**Feb 13**_

"**Politics – the gentle art of getting votes from the poor and campaign funds from the rich, by promising to protect each from the other." - _Oscar Ameringer._**

For the first time in a while, the whole team were gathered in MTAC. Everyone that is, except Ziva David.

McGee sat at one of the computers with Abby, while Gibbs and Jenny sat watching Tony pace backwards and forwards in front of them.

"You're going to wear out a strip in my carpet, DiNozzo." Jenny smiled, taking a sip of Gibbs' coffee.

"Sorry Director, I'm just a little antsy."

"We noticed." McGee replied, grinning. "You look like a guy outside the delivery suite of a hospital room."

"Don't say stuff like that McJoker. It's not funny. I'm just impatient. Our new probationary agent is taking too long."

"She'll be fine, DiNozzo." Gibbs chipped in, his voice enough to soothe the other man. "She's been doing this longer than you have."

"Abby, I am in." Ziva's voice hissed over the sound system, making Tony stop to look at the video. "The money has been bugged and I will be speaking to our dealer in a few minutes."

"Did he give up his source of information?" Jenny asked.

"Not yet. I have my methods of persuasion." Ziva replied, earning a quiet scoff from Tony.

"Politics." He complained, pacing again. "You should run for Director."

"And what is wrong with being Director?" Jenny spoke up again, eyebrow raised in question. Gibbs smiled; Tony's face completely priceless.

"Nothing, I just meant that-"

"Want a shovel, Tony?" McGee interrupted, relishing the fact it wasn't him stuttering over a reply for a change.

"Shut it, Probie."

"Bad day, Tony?"

"You too, Probie number two."

Ziva laughed in his ear. "Yes sir."

"I love hanging out with you guys." Abby smiled, touching Tim's shoulder affectionately. "It's always so much fun!"

Tony glanced around the room – at the people smiling back at him. His colleagues. His friends. It really wasn't such a bad day.


	14. Feb 14

_A/N: Happy Valentine's day :) I'm currently working on a M rated oneshot to go alongside this one because I can't resist and also because I think you deserve to know sooner rather than later what Gibbs got Jenny..._

* * *

_**Feb 14**_

"**Sex is one of the nine reasons for reincarnation. The other eight are unimportant." _- Henry Miller_**

"Zee-_vah_!" Tony whined loudly, ignoring the weird looks from the two agents walking past.

"It is none of your business. Or mine for that matter."

"But you know something... As Probie number two, you are required to share all information with your senior agent."

"_Gibbs_ is my senior agent." She smiled, cocking her eyebrow as a clear challenge for him to argue.

Tony resisted the urge to growl in frustration. She definitely knew how to push his buttons. Coupled with the fact she wore his favourite blue striped shirt, tucked in enough to make it look fashionable, he had a hard time concentrating on his side of the argument.

McGee watched the two of them fight, also slightly distracted by Ziva. He knew that shirt. Tony had bragged about it for almost an entire week. There was also no doubting it was a man's shirt... This was good.

"You worked with Jenny long enough for girl talk." He raised his eyebrows suggestively at her while she simply scowled back.

"I'm gonna go see Abby." McGee stood up, deciding to do a special op of his own. Turning round the bullpen, he ducked behind the divider, still within earshot. Sure enough, Ziva closed the distance between her and Tony, a soft look in her eyes he'd never seen before.

"Today is Valentine's day, yes?"

McGee watched as she trailed her foot up from his ankle, obviously trying to stay low key. Tony nodded, briefly touching the material at her abdomen to pull her closer. Apparently, he didn't care who saw.

"The boss is doing something big for her, isn't he?" Ziva nodded. "I knew it." He grinned, smugly. "I wish we didn't have to come in today... You look just as good as me in that shirt."

"Wait until later, _ahabal._"

"That was something nasty, wasn't it?" Slapping his stomach, Ziva sauntered off, leaving Tony watching her. "_Ani ohev otach._" He spoke loud enough for her to hear; McGee too.

Ziva froze.

Then, as she glanced over her shoulder to smile at him, McGee realised what he'd said. Ziva had taught him the odd phrase of Hebrew to impress Abby a little while back.

'_I love you'._

"I knew it." He hissed, bolting towards the elevator. Abby needed to hear this...


	15. Feb 15

_A/N: To all those interested, there is a companion M rated Jibbs fic called 'Something Special' for the days they're away... Enjoy :)

* * *

_

_**Feb 15**_

"**When a man wants to murder a tiger he calls it sport; when a tiger wants to murder him, he calls it ferocity." - _George Bernard Shaw._**

Jimmy Palmer followed Dr Mallard to their crime scene.

Apparently, a few recruits had decided to play 'chicken' with a Bengal tiger. How they thought they'd win, or what a tiger was actually doing in D.C, Jimmy didn't even bother to comprehend. A man in scrubs and a lab coat stood over one of the bodies, looking so clichéd that Jimmy grinned to himself.

"The vet is here before us." Ducky observed. "I'm sure Miss David is keeping him in check with usual protocol."

Sure enough, Palmer noticed the three NCIS agents standing around waiting, caps pulled low over their faces against the biting spring chill.

"Good afternoon, Anthony. How are we today?"

"Pretty good thanks, Duck. Better than our new recruit here." He gestured towards the body a few feet away.

"Is Jethro around? I have his-"

"Gibbs isn't here..." Tony smiled, sharing a knowing look with McGee.

"He took a few day's vacation." The other agent provided, smiling too at the shock falling across the M.E's face. Gibbs and vacation were two words that usually didn't appear in the same sentence. _Ever._

"Oh my." The doctor exclaimed. "Is he... okay?"

Tony laughed, earning a slap across his shoulder from Ziva. "He's in Paris."

"Paris?" Ducky echoed.

"Paris." McGee confirmed.

"McHacker may have run his cards because we were just as shocked and worried about him as you."

"He flew out yesterday morning."

Ducky glanced at Ziva, who had stayed quiet throughout the exchange. He suspected she'd received the same phone call he had the day before. "_Been summoned to Paris but Cynthia is forwarding all matters to Assistant Director Vance. I'll be back in a few days._"

"Oh my." He repeated, the smile Ziva gave him enough to confirm his predictions. "Right then, let's see what happened here, shall we?"


	16. Feb 16

_**Feb 16**_

"**Confront your fears and face the worst; it is unknown which creates the monsters which will engulf you." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Ziva David knew enough about how cars worked to get herself out of any difficult or annoying situations that arose because of them.

Unless of course, the car had a flat battery.

Stranded in the dark in the middle of nowhere, she couldn't quite believe her luck. In the last half hour, not a single car had driven past. There were no buildings nearby, no street-lights and no chance of even putting on her hazard lights... _Perfect._

She'd cursed in Hebrew, kicked the wheel, pleaded and even threatened it with both Tony and Gibbs' ownership. Nothing.

Calling the one person she knew she could depend on to help without stressing her out even more, she waited. A new feeling swept over her; one she hadn't felt in a long time.

Fear.

Never one to allow herself the irrational phobias others experienced, her days as an assassin meant the one thing she feared the most was being alone. It came with the territory, she knew that. It didn't mean she had to like it. Adrenaline made her fingers tingle, her ears picking up every little sound. The darkness felt almost suffocating, closing in around her.

A pair of headlights appeared just as Ziva resorted to talking to herself in Hebrew to try and calm herself down. The car slowed and she recognised the vehicle as McGee's. Relief engulfed her as he stepped out, a look of concern clear even in the dim light.

"Ziva?" She hugged him then, needing the reassurance of his touch. "Hey, are you okay?" His voice softened as he held her close, definitely not used to this side of her. "You used to be an assassin but you're scared of the dark, right?" He tried joking with her, desperate to lift the mood. He'd been working with Tony for too long. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I am glad you came."

"What else would I do?" He asked, throwing his jacket over her shoulders. "I've got jumper cables and a torch in the trunk. Let's get out of here as soon as possible, yeah?"


	17. Feb 17

_A/N: Did I mention that this month has a _serious _amount of continuity? :)

* * *

_

_**Feb 17**_

"**If it weren't for the optimist, the pessimist would never know how happy he is." - _Anon._**

"_Boker tov._" Ziva David greeted McGee as she handed him a cup of coffee.

"Good morning." He replied, nodding politely. His head felt a little fuzzy from the beers they'd shared the night before, spending a rare evening together. Working through the case from a few days previously, the team had felt the absence of their boss although at least this time they knew he would be coming back.

"We are going to be late for work." She sipped her coffee, obviously in no rush to get ready. McGee had noticed a change in Ziva lately – one that suited her.

"Tony's going to be all alone wondering where we are." He chuckled, enjoying the image. "He's going to kill me for bringing you back here."

"He does not own me." She retorted, a little offended at the statement.

"I didn't mean-" McGee stumbled over his reply, blushing slightly. He paused, debating on the best way to redeem himself. "He'll just be pissed that he didn't get the chance to show off his skills as an auto mechanic."

Ziva smiled, the idea of Tony in overalls a little too entertaining...

"I know you were there hiding in the bullpen on Sunday." She took another sip of coffee, as he tried to avoid the guilty look begging to give him away.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He replied, keeping his cool.

"It is fine, McGee. I knew the moment you saw me arrive that morning that you recognised his shirt."

"Do you not remember the week he got it?" McGee groaned loudly. "You threatened him with every implement within your reach to shut him up." Ziva laughed – a sound he'd never get sick of. "It suited you."

"_Toda._" She whispered, still not quite used to receiving compliments.

"You're welcome." He smiled, the two of them drifting into a comfortable silence.

Sometimes all you needed was a good friend**.**


	18. Feb 18

_**Feb 18**_

"**Perception is more important than reality." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't quite explain the hold Jenny Shepard had over him.

With a single word, he craved her touch; a single touch and he lost all sense of reality.

Paris held a place in his heart – it had for a long time. Despite that, taking Jenny there on vacation felt so out of character he'd been half tempted to get Ducky to check him over. The last four days had been perfect, minus the shopping she'd forced him to do with her of course.

As he sipped his coffee, Jethro watched the various people drift past, slightly distracted by the warm breath tickling his neck as Jenny had snuggled into his shoulder, her fingers trailing circles in his thigh as she dozed. Their flight had been delayed for a few hours but neither of them minded.

An update from DiNozzo earlier that morning assured them everything was running smoothly back in D.C. Busy working on a case, his team didn't have the time to cause mischief. The food fight and McGee's pranks last month had been enough excitement, thank you.

Kissing Jenny's hair, Jethro inhaled the smell of her shampoo, memories of the shower they'd shared flooding his senses. The feel of her skin under his fingertips, the taste of chocolate on his lips from breakfast.

"Mmm Jethro." She mumbled, unwinding herself to stretch. "How long was I out?"

"Not long." He kissed her again, offering over his coffee.

Taking it, she brushed her fingers over his. "I can't believe you did this. It's been beautiful."

He smiled, wanting to tell her he thought she defined the word. He wanted to tell her he loved her but he didn't have to. She knew.

She always knew.


	19. Feb 19

_A/N: Minor spoilers for Supernatural 5x11

* * *

_

_**Feb 19**_

"**An asylum for the sane would be empty in America." - **_**George Bernard Shaw.**_

"Boss, how long do I have to be here? These people are crazy. Even McGoo is starting to fit in."

Tony spoke into the earwig, vaguely aware of the nurse watching him from across the room. Dressed in a white t-shirt and light blue cotton pants, he looked like any other 'resident'. Considering he'd spent the last half hour talking out loud to his boss when no-one knew he had an ear-wig in, their plan had gone exactly like they wanted.

"Shut up Tony." McGee's voice made him smile. He couldn't even imagine how bored the other man was right now. Tony never had been one to want to sit still. Unless he was watching a movie, of course.

"How is isolation, Probie? Thought of any new ideas for your novel yet?" He added sarcastically.

"Behave, DiNozzo." Gibbs warned him. "Where's our man?"

"I can't see him anymore, boss. I think he's gone back to his room."

"No wonder everyone is staying away from you." Palmer joined in, although Tony could see him from across the foyer, scribbling something on the clipboard he held.

"Be careful that hot nurse to your right doesn't hear you talking to yourself Palmer, otherwise you'll be joining me in here."

"It's okay _dear, _of course I can speak to you while I'm at work."

"This reminds me of a recent Supernatural episode I saw last week..." He paused briefly. "I really hope I don't actually go crazy. Palmer, keep an eye on me okay, and don't go kissing any hot nurses otherwise-"

"I've got a lock on our suspect's GPS chip." McGee interrupted, sounding a little out of breath. "I'm out of my room and following him."

"Where are you?" Tony hissed, standing up. Making it look like he needed to stretch, he winced slightly, forgetting the bandage around his finger. Stupid vending machine.

"West of the building, heading towards the morgue."

"I'll be there in 5." Palmer replaced the phone and made an excuse to leave, flashing one of his lopsided grins that often got him out of trouble.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs spoke up, the urgency clear in just that one word.

"On it, boss."

Glancing around, Tony weighed the odds. One nurse caring to the woman in the corner, the other behind the station Palmer had just left. According to his earlier sweep, there was only one door he needed to get through.

Deciding on the easiest and quickest way to join the others as back up, he ran, ignoring the shouts of the nurse and alarm that shortly followed.


	20. Feb 20

_**Feb 20**_

"**Old age is always 15 years younger than I am." - _Bernard Baruch._**

Donald Mallard loved tea.

It didn't matter the time of day, the weather outside or the company with which he held, it fit every occasion. It soothed every ache and calmed every nerve.

Watching Mr Palmer wash the body in front of him, Ducky leant back in his chair, the steam from the mug drifting the length of his face. After yesterday's eventful afternoon undercover to retrieve a body and their prime suspect who'd also broken in, today would be extremely busy for the team. Jethro, fresh from his vacation, had slipped back into his routine like he hadn't even left, although Ducky could see the difference in the other man's face. He looked more relaxed - at ease like he'd laughed all day, every day of his time abroad. Younger even.

Turning his attention back to Jimmy, Ducky felt a little envious of his protégé. His quick wit and seemingly innocent demeanour had lead to the capture and arrest of the man currently being interrogated upstairs. When he'd returned, Jimmy had collapsed into a chair, grinning from ear to ear and requesting a mug of tea. Happy to oblige, Ducky felt a sense of pride. According to Gibbs, Palmer had acted like an agent. Considering in the past he had knocked over instrument trays and dropped an organ or two at the sound of a phone ringing during an autopsy, it was surprising.

Oh to be that young, when chasing a suspect around the corridors of a Psychiatric Institute were nothing more than annoying and a fist fight resulted in a few bruises instead of broken bones.

Mr Palmer sported a black eye for his troubles, but Ducky knew he felt proud for being able to help in the field. Hopefully he wouldn't have a sudden change of heart towards the latter.

"Doctor, I've found something you might be interested in..." He called, bringing Ducky back to his senses.

And on with the rest of the day...


	21. Feb 21

_**Feb 21**_

"**An after dinner speech should be just like a lady's dress; long enough to cover the subject and short enough to be interesting." - _Anon._**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs hated wearing a tux.

It made him feel like he was at a wedding. But as always, he hadn't been able to say no to a certain redhead...

Getting ready, she'd buttoned his shirt and fixed his tie, distracting him enough to make them late to the restaurant.

If the team hadn't been questioning the validity of Rule 12, they definitely were now.

Although considering he suspected a little more than friendship between certain members of his team, they could hardly talk. Quoting Rule 12 would now make him a hypocrite. Not quoting it would be out of character.

Maybe he'd just stroll into the bullpen with his trusty baseball bat instead tomorrow morning?

Jenny had organised the evening, wanting the team to relax. She'd picked the restaurant and set a strict dress code – one Jethro now approved of as he let his eyes roam over her mesmerising figure. She wore a black evening dress, her hair falling in loose curls down to her shoulders.

"You look beautiful." He whispered in her ear as he followed her to their table.

The others had already settled, casually sipping on wine and enjoying the conversation. Jethro pulled out Jenny's chair for her, setting himself between her and Ducky.

"Stuck in traffic, boss?" Tony teased, thankful he sat opposite his superior and out of headslapping reach. Then again, nothing would surprise him.

Looking around at his team, Jethro smiled. Ziva wore purple, her hair also down. Tony and McGee sat either side of her, both in a tux. His eyes fell on Abby next, the white of her dress contrasting her hair perfectly. Dating Jenny made him notice the effort they made. Seriously, what had she done to him?!

"I'd like to make a little toast." Ducky rose, silence falling across the table. Judging by the shared looks, they were all thinking the same thing... Was this such a good idea after all?

"I can do it." Tony offered, yelping a few seconds later from what Jethro could only guess to have been a kick under the table from Abby.

Ducky raised his glass, waiting for everyone to follow suit. Smiling, he uttered five words that Jethro could only describe as perfect.

"To our own little family."


	22. Feb 22

_**Feb 22**_

"**Saying 'I don't know' is a sign of strength not weakness." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Timothy McGee hated waiting rooms.

He often found himself thinking of the most inappropriate story ideas while he watched random people around him.

Ziva, deciding to chase down a suspect, had been grazed by a bullet across her shoulder, only agreeing to get stitches when Jenny had threatened to send her back to Israel.

In person.

Leaning back into the chair, McGee glanced nervously towards the doors, waiting for Gibbs and Tony. He didn't know who would be worse...

Just as he considered either, Gibbs strode in, baseball bat in hand. Oh _crap._

"Probie!" Tony yelled, closely following. "What the hell happened?"

"The bullet just grazed her. She needed stitches."

"I know _that."_ He carried on, stopping inches away from McGee's face. He glanced between the bat his boss held, and back to the younger man. "You were supposed to look after her, Probie."

"She's an ex-assassin, she can look after herself!"

"Apparently not... So I ask again, what the hell happened?"

McGee didn't know what to say. The suspect's gun had appeared from nowhere and Ziva's reaction time completely flawless. As usual. It was a lucky shot. Nothing else. But Tony would probably floor him for saying that. The man had changed lately, more protective over Ziva than he'd ever been before. If McGee hadn't known the reason, he'd have mocked him nonstop about it.

"Probie!" Tony barked, drawing him back to reality.

"I don't know." He replied, hoping Tony could hear the sincerity in his voice. "I'm sorry okay, I don't know how it happened. And you shouting at me isn't going to change anything so just back off and let it go, alright?" His tone seemed to make Tony a little more logical, his posture relaxing slightly before he stormed off to find Ziva. Gibbs touched McGee's shoulder briefly, the look in his eyes making the young agent flinch. "I know, I shouldn't have apologised."

Gibbs shook his head. "Good for you for standing up to him."


	23. Feb 23

_**Feb 23**_

"**Life is simply one damned thing after another." _Elbert Hubbard._**

Jenny Shepard lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Jethro's snores filled the room but she couldn't complain. At least he hadn't slept under his boat.

His arm draped across her stomach, his head halfway down the bed, in line with her chest. Mumbling incoherently, he instinctively pulled her closer. She didn't want to wake him but wanted to feel his hands roam over her, even now.

The thought of Paris never failed to make her smile, with the reality enough to take her breath away. It was such a beautiful city; one that held so many memories, both good and bad. Recently though, all of those memories were extremely good. Walking through the streets of France, listening to the people and basking in the smell of chocolate, coffee and bread.

Jethro had tried arguing when she'd suggested shopping, to which she'd promised to make it up to him. Sure enough, an hour or so later, Jenny had dragged him by his shirt into her changing room, grateful for the lack of staff around.

Needless to say, he hadn't complained again.

Jethro relaxed in her company, something she noticed more as the vacation progressed. He always needed to touch her. Whether it was holding her hand or letting his hand fall to the small of her back as they walked, it made up for their inability to do it as often as they liked at work. He teased her, kissing her neck while she stood in line for coffee or even brushing his hips against hers in the elevator going up the Eiffel Tower.

Yes, he most definitely relaxed in her company.

Closing her eyes, Jenny ran a hand through his hair, figuring out if she could work from home today...

She really didn't want to move.


	24. Feb 24

_**Feb 24**_

"**Much of the world's work is done by men who do not feel quite well." - _J.K. Galbraith._**

Anthony DiNozzo hated hangovers.

Despite his 20 years of attempting to perfect a cure, his only solution had been to drink less, but what fun would that be?

Coming into work after a weekend of partying used to be a regular occurrence although he'd slowed down a lot lately.

Which was why he couldn't believe the sight in front of him.

"Morning, McHangover." He called, earning a loud groan in reply. Slumped over his desk, face down on his keyboard, Tony could smell the alcohol on McGee from his own desk. "Have you even showered?"

"Twice."

"Eaten? Drank?"

"Don't say those two words." McGee slowly lifted his head, squinting at the lights.

"Hello sunshine." Tony said, pleasantly. "I'm guessing Gibbs hasn't seen you yet, considering you can still talk."

"I have to do a background and credit card check on Officer Joseph. I can't _see_ straight!"

"You're not still drunk, are you?" Tony sat on the edge of his friend's desk, grinning like a fool.

"No... My _head-_"

"It's only Wednesday!"

McGee groaned again. "My editor talked me into going for a few drinks..."

"Go Probie!" Tony nudged him, winking suggestively.

"Shut up, nothing happened."

"Other than you getting absolutely hammered, you mean?"

"Gibbs is going to kill me if I don't get this done." He let his head fall back onto the desk with a loud thud.

"I have no sympathy at all. I've been there. Be a man and suffer in silence like the rest of us."

"When are you ever silent? Especially when you're suffering..."

"Aren't you in a pleasant mood today." Once more, McGee groaned in reply. Deciding he owed him from the other day at the hospital, Tony pushed McGee's chair over, pulling the keyboard onto his lap. "Talk me through it." He ordered, ignoring the shock across McGee's face. "It's either this or Gibbs kills you and I don't want to clean up blood all afternoon – these are new shoes. Now shoot!"


	25. Feb 25

_A/N: The song 'Bela Belisima' by Hadag Nachash is what Ziva was listening to at the beginning of 'Ex-File' 5x03. Just in case you were wondering...

* * *

_

_**Feb 25**_

"**Live your life honestly and with good intentions and you will enjoy the comfort of a clear conscience." - _Vernon Coleman._**

"Shalom, Abby." Ziva David greeted her friend, frowning slightly at the music coming from the CD player. "Are you listening to _Hadag Nachash_?"

"Please don't get mad." The Goth appeared, goggles over her eyes. "Please please please don't get mad... I needed some new music and decided to borrow yours from your desk because I wanted a different _genre._ I shouldn't have taken it but-"

"I do not mind."

"But I invaded your privacy, I stole-"

"Abby." Ziva raised her voice, touching her friend's shoulder. "I do not mind."

Smiling, Abby bounced a little, pulling Ziva into a hug. She carefully avoided squeezing too hard, conscious of the wound from a few days previously. "Thank you."

"So do you like it?"

The Goth wrinkled her nose. "Do you actually know the controversy behind Hadag Nachash's song Bela Belisima?" Ziva nodded but she carried on regardless. "The song praises Bela Froind, an orthodox woman who laid across the body of a terrorist to prevent his murder until the police arrived. Could you imagine that?! I mean, that would scare the _life_ out of me. All those people wanting to hurt you."

"I know the feeling." Ziva mumbled, not wanting to even think about the truth behind her own words. "The music Abby, do you like _that_?"

"Definitely. It feels good listening to something else. Would you like to borrow my iPod? I've got-"

"I have to say I do not see the fascination of screaming and heavy drumming in a song." Ziva admitted, desperately trying to keep her tone light in case she offended the other woman.

"I have a few that would surprise you." Abby handed over a CD – always the persistent one. "I promise."

She accepted the gift, knowing she could trust her friend with anything - even music.


	26. Feb 26

_**Feb 26**_

"**Your body knows best. Learn to listen to it." - _Vernon Coleman._**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs needed a massage.

Or a bath.

Or both.

With Jenny.

He'd slept in the basement the night before; deeper than he usually did due to the large volume of bourbon he'd consumed that evening. For once though, it hadn't been because of the case or an anniversary – Jethro just wanted a drink... And forgot quite how much until he felt the room sway a little.

Jenny hadn't contacted him all day and he missed the sound of her voice.

So much for willpower. He couldn't go a day without the feel of her breath against his skin or the way her eyes glistened when he told her he loved her. He missed the taste of stolen coffee on her tongue and the sound of her laugh – something that brought a smile to his lips, seemingly on reflex.

He _ached._

Trying to wring out the knot across his back, Jethro tried all his usual techniques of rolling his neck or stretching his arms out behind him. Nothing worked.

So he'd called Jenny, demanding she came over to help him. Blackmailed her into keeping his hands to himself if she didn't work wonders with her own.

She had him moaning within the hour.

In all the wrong ways.

"Jen." He growled, feeling the pull of his muscles as she guided his arm at a right angle to his head in the 'triangle' position. This _hurt_.

"Ssssh," she hissed, letting her hands wander across his back. "Just breathe."

Jethro obeyed, feeling her chest press into his back. He closed his eyes, inhaling the lavender from the candles she'd lit. Again, she wore shorts. Again, she distracted him from simple tasks. Like breathing.

"Stand up." She instructed, supporting his body with her own. Pulling his t-shirt over his head, she didn't see the way his eyebrows raised in question. She watched his shoulders move – the muscles that needed her attention.

She started to knead across his shoulder-blades with the heel of her palm, just like he sanded his boat. He felt the growl forming in the back of his throat, although this time it was pure arousal. The skin on skin contact drove him crazy. Her other hand snuck around his hip, along the line of his sweatpants. She nipped the back of his neck with her teeth, trailing her tongue over afterwards.

As her hand stroked the length of him, Jethro practically tingled with anticipation. Jenny kissed his neck again and he bit his bottom lip at the way she touched him.

Yoga definitely had its advantages.


	27. Feb 27

_**Feb 27**_

"**Man is the only animal that blushes. Or needs to." - _Mark Twain._**

Timothy McGee hated being so nervous.

He could feel his heart racing. He couldn't slow his breathing. His palms were sweating.

Gibbs had told – no, practically _ordered_ that McGee went with him for a drive. With the 'incidents' in the last two months, he was sure this would be reprimand time.

Tim loved Abby. He'd come into work hungover, hacked into Gibbs' credit card activity and written _porn_ in his witness statement by mistake. Oh my _God_, what if he'd found out about the time he and Abby had-

"McGee!" Gibbs barked loudly, making the young man flinch.

The baseball bat at the ex-Marine's feet didn't help.

"Yes boss?"

"Something on your mind?"

_Damn it. _"I was... I was just curious as to where we're going." '_Or whether you're going to pummel me with that bat.'_

"Calm down McGee, you look like I'm going to kill you."

"You're not, are you?" Gibbs laughed. Actually laughed. Then squirmed in his seat, as if trying to work out a muscle in his back. "You okay, boss?"

"Knot." He growled, a soft burst of color working its way up across his neck. If he didn't know otherwise, Tim would have sworn the man blushed, almost as if there was something more behind those words.

Something that Tim _knew_ he wouldn't want to hear if he valued his life.

"I know it sounds stupid, but Ziva's introduced me to quite a few new things recently, mostly fighting I guess, but she's pretty good at yoga too and I bet it'll help if you-"

Again, Gibbs laughed. Out loud. McGee frowned. This was not normal.

"Boss, are you-"

"I'm taking you for batting practice."

McGee thought he'd heard wrong. He considered the possibility of alien abduction. Or demon possession. Or maybe-

A head slap brought him crashing down to reality. Gibbs was perfectly fine.

"We can always go back to finish paperwork?"

"No." Tim jumped in, feeling the smile tug at his lips. "Baseball sounds like fun."

Gibbs nodded, turning back to the road ahead of him. It really did.


	28. Feb 28

_A/N: Sorry for the delay, first this one wasn't beta'd and now isn't letting me upload. Fun times. Anyway - Enjoy :)_

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_**Feb 28**_

"**I long ago came to the conclusion that it was horribly evil to experiment on other living beings and then attempt to justify the practice by calling it medical research." - _Sir John Gielgud._**

Anthony DiNozzo made sure he'd finished his chicken noodles before he ventured down to Autopsy.

After the last 'pizza' incident, it was safe to say he'd learnt his lesson.

Riding down in the elevator, alone for a change, Tony let his mind wander. He couldn't believe how fast this month had gone. It felt like only yesterday he'd lost a fight with a vending machine... Or Icarus.

Or Probie.

Damn Ziva for teaching him her deadly ninja moves. He'd get her back later...

The doors opened as slow as usual, Gibbs' fault he presumed, with Ducky's voice greeting him, cheerful as any other day.

"Ah, Anthony! Will you please inform my young assistant here why I have found mildew on the feet of our friend?"

Tony stopped, blankly looking between the doctor and the body on the table. "Is this a trick question?" Followed by, "Why would I know?"

"Doctor, I-"

"I don't want to hear your theories _now_, Mr Palmer."

"You know, I watched a CSI episode once where-" Palmer's short burst of laughter cut him off. "Something funny about that?"

"Just that you watch a show about... When you... Don't worry."

Tony smiled as the younger man blushed. "As I was saying, Dr Grissom, the supervisor of the team, decides to test if a mildew induced skin rash could be found on the suspect because of his Norwegian decent, so he conducts his experiment on the feet of a lab tech who ends up hobbling back into his boss' office like-" He paused. "Could you imagine Gibbs doing something like that as punishment?"

"No Dinozzo, the Marines have punishments that would take longer than a few days to get over." The man in question appeared, making Tony flinch. "What you got for me, Duck?"

"Ask Palmer." Tony suggested, grinning.

"You're more likely to be the one with the rash, _thank you._"

Everyone froze.

Palmer looked as though he couldn't quite believe he'd said what he had. His blush deepened as Tony battled with the sudden urge to hit him or come up with a better reply. Jimmy's stumbled apology beat him to either.

"Let's go, Tony." Gibbs flashed both men a smile before dragging his agent from the room.

Maybe he could talk Abby into testing a few more of her theories soon...


End file.
